A Betting Man outtakes
by mybluesky
Summary: The title says it all. Recommend that you read "A Betting Man" first, or else they won't make any sense.


A/N: These are the 2 outtakes that were sent out as review replies while writing A Betting Man. I'll no longer be sending them to anyone, as they can now be found here. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight

-o-o-

**EPOV outtake from chapter 21**

"I can't-" She pants against me, unable to catch her breath. "We shouldn't—I just—we can't have _sex_."

I pause against her, truthfully a little perturbed by her words. I had thought about sex, certainly, but I would never try to take her here, on the couch. And certainly not after the awkward visit from her ex.

But I can't blame her for not trusting me. She has every right, even if she doesn't know it.

I just want to make her feel good. For the first time in nearly a decade, I just want to see her reaction while she comes undone around me. I want her to feel good and, selfishly, I want her to feel good because of me.

I kiss her cheek softly, hoping to convey the meaning behind my gesture.

"We won't," I whisper.

Her chest rises to meet mine with each heavy breath.

"I just—I don't want you to _expect _things."

"I don't, Bella. I promise." But I can only imagine what James must have done to her when she refused him. How much he must have pressured her. The thought makes me feel sick and I start to pull away. "But we can stop."

She grabs my shoulders and pulls me back to her, our mouths clashing together, and she kisses me passionately. Her tongue forces its way into my mouth, stroking, teasing, and I groan. I can feel her clawing at my chest in an effort to get closer. My jeans strain uncomfortably, my erection harder than its ever been.

I reach down and stroke her over her panties and she tenses and moans simultaneously.

I pause.

"Is this okay?" I whisper. I don't want to push her too far. I want her to stop me when it's too much.

But she nods against me, prompting me to continue. I move my hand forward and slip it inside her panties, eager to feel her slick folds but cautious of going further.

"Is this okay?" I ask again, and her responding nod is eager, her lips sucking and claiming mine as she pulls at my shirt and hair. I stroke her slowly, feeling the moisture there, her hips instantly bucking forward to meet my hand. I thrill at knowing I can satisfy her this way.

I slip one finger inside, and then another, as I attack her neck and suck greedily at the skin, reveling in her taste. My thoughts wander, and I imagine how she must taste in other places, but I'm cautious of taking this further. She's willingly given this part of herself to me and I'll graciously take what I can get.

Her hips begin to move against my hand, finding a rhythm to match my strokes, and I can tell she's getting close. Her hands fist tightly in my hair, the pressure building as her moans increase in pitch and frequency. I kiss her skin, savoring, and I watch her as she holds her head back, her lips slightly parted with her eyes closed. She's even more beautiful this way, if that's even possible, and I want to do this to her forever – make her feel like this always – so that I can have this same pleasure again and again.

She cries out, and I can feel her body throbbing around me as she grasps me tightly, almost painfully, and pulls me against her. But I'm not going anywhere – there's nowhere else I want to be.

I wait for her to calm. After a moment she loosens her grip and I take the opportunity to kiss her passionately, conveying every unspoken message, every unspoken feeling, into the kiss.

I pull back and rest my forehead against hers. "Was that good?" I ask, but I know it was. More than anything, I just want her to assure me that she enjoyed it, that she doesn't regret what just happened.

She only nods, but she looks content.

I shift her on the couch so that I can lie down beside her. She quickly makes room and then turns to snuggle against my chest. I wrap her into my arms, relishing the feel of her bare skin beneath my fingers, and try to ignore the raging problem in my pants.

We lie this way for a long time, neither of us speaking. I can feel her warm breaths against my chest as she relaxes against me. I trail my fingers across her smooth skin – down her back, her shoulders, her arm – and she shivers slightly against my touch while attempting to snuggle even closer.

As we lie there, I realize there is nowhere in the whole fucking world that I'd rather be. Lying with Bella, here on the couch, gives me a strange sense of satisfaction unrivaled by the quick trysts of nameless women. I didn't get a release, but it doesn't matter – I'd make Bella orgasm a thousand more times if it only meant I could watch her come undone beneath me again and again.

I eventually begin to imagine how she'd feel if we did have sex – how hot and tight her body would be around me and how gratifying it'd be to make her come with other parts of my body. I think about this and my problem persists, but I'm unable to stop.

My nose rests on the top of her head and I inhale her scent. She smells like coconuts again. It's such a feminine, pleasant smell and I want to take her to bed, to fall asleep with her by my side while my nose is buried in her hair.

It's been such a long time since either of us have spoken that I barely hear her whispered words.  
"Thank you."

I don't know what she's thanking me for, but it seems to be a good thing. I accept it and remain silent.

But I worry, and since she initiated conversation, I decide to continue.

"Was that too much?"

She doesn't move against me. "Was what too much?"

"That—you know. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable earlier."

I can feel her smile against my chest. "No, that was, um...very nice."

I can't contain my smile. "I could tell."

"Shut up!" she exclaims.

"It was nice seeing you like that," I insist. "With your defenses down."

She pauses for a moment, lost in thought. "I'm sorry I didn't, uh...return the favor," she says awkwardly.

I frown. "I told you not to."

"Everyone knows that's not what a man _really_ means."

"It's what _I _really meant." I pause, wondering if I should just tell her how I feel about what just happened. I feel like I need to get this off my chest, to let her inside at least a little bit. "This is all kind of different for me. Sometimes I wonder if I'm really sucking at it."

"What do you mean?"

"Lying here with you. On the couch. It's not something I usually do. It's not something I usually _want_ to do." The words aren't coming out exactly as I'd planned them. I feel frustrated; I'm eager for her to understand. "But I like you, Bella. I really do. Usually the thought of getting someone else off without getting something in return is kind of—I don't know. But I _wanted_ to get you off. I _liked _getting you off. And that was enough for me." I sigh, wondering if I've made a complete ass of myself. She probably thinks I'm insane. "I know I'm not making any sense."

She hesitates a moment, as though drinking in my words. "Why is all this different?" she finally whispers. "Why have you never been close to anyone before?"

I tense as I recall unpleasant memories. Memories which I try to avoid.

"I was. Once. But I've seen what it does to people."

I stroke her back, hoping she will accept my cryptic answer. Hoping she won't press, because she'll surely regret tonight if she knows all the fucked up reasons for my previous behavior. If she knows the exact cause of my commitment issues.

I want to be honest with her, to tell her several things she needs to hear, but I can't. Not now. I'm stalling, clinging to her for as long as she'll have me.

It's selfish, but I'm just not ready to let her go.

* * *

**Emmett POV outtake from chapter 22**

"Hey, man. Mind if I talk to you outside for a minute?"

Rose and Bella whip their heads towards me like I've just broken boyfriend rule number ninety-eight or something. Is it really so strange to want to talk to a friend outside? Stop looking at me, women. Sheesh.

Edward stands up. "Yeah, sure."

"Be right back, babes," I say, quickly kissing Rose on the cheek. She's glaring at me, silently demanding some kind of explanation, but there's no way to provide that now. She'll probably assault me later, but hell. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

We walk through the restaurant and out the front door. It's raining again – when is it not fucking raining around this place? - so we have to crowd beneath the overhang beside some obviously gay business guys who are practically rubbing their nuts together for everyone to see.

Edward doesn't even seem to notice them, unobservant asshole that he can be. He stands uncomfortably at my side as he waits for me to begin.

"What's up, Em?" he finally asks. I lean against the wall beside him, deciding to simply cut to the chase.

"So what's going on, man?"  
"What do you mean?"

_As if he really doesn't know_.

"I mean with you and Bella."

He frowns, looking genuinely confused. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He cannot _seriously_ be this dense. It's so obvious it's nearly painful to watch.

"You like her," I deadpan. I feel ridiculous having to say this aloud. _Of course_ he likes her.

"So? You knew that already," he says, his voice a little defensive. At least he isn't trying to deny it now.

So why the fuck is he still lying to her? Be a man, Edward – rip off the bandaid already.

"I haven't seen you look at a girl that way in—well, fuck. Years, I think," I say, hoping to convey the change I've seen in him. He just shrugs, no longer meeting my eyes. "So you like her? Like _really _like her?" I ask, digging for more.

"Yes, Emmett." He sounds exasperated. "But there's more to it than that. It's complicated."

_Oh, don't I know it_.

But it doesn't have to be. He could uncomplicate things with one conversation. Doesn't he realize this?

"_Complicated," _I repeat. "You always want to make things _complicated_. I see the way you look at her, dude. And I'm happy for you, man. I really am. But you need to step up your shit unless you wanna lose her. Don't hold anything back from her – be completely honest."

Edward frowns, and I wonder if I'm finally penetrating his unusually thick skull. Seriously, what is he thinking? That he can never tell Bella about the bet and they'll go on living in happily ever after oblivion? That Bella won't ever find out?

Cardinal rule number one: never underestimate a female. This is real life, Edward. And in real life, women always find out your game and they always get what they want. Even if they lead you to believe you're getting what _you_ want.

Us men never get what we want unless they want it, too. Learn this and be happy with the knowledge. It's all we can do.

"Where is this coming from?" he asks, and for a second I think he sounds angry. I'm just trying to _help _you, man. If I didn't I'd tell you to keep trying to bang her so I can keep fucking with you which, in all honesty, sounds like a hell of a lot more fun. Christ, the sexual tension between these two is going to make _me_ explode.

"It's coming from a friend. I'm speaking as a friend to a friend. And let's not forget that I'm dating her best friend. We talk about shit, you know?"

He doesn't know. Not really. He has no idea.

I wonder what Ursula is up to right now...

"Yeah, Em. I figured as much." He begins doing that fruity thing where he pulls at his hair, making it stick straight out. I swear he grew his hair out specifically for that purpose. He thinks it's sexy or something. I just know it.

The cogwheels in my mind turn as I think of what to say without revealing what I know. "You need to be honest with her. Chicks dig that," I say. "They want to know everything about you and don't like being lied to."

Fuck, was that too much? That was definitely too much...

"What makes you think I'm not being honest with her?" he asks defensively, and it takes every ounce of restraint in my body – which, admittedly, is not a lot – to keep from rolling my eyes. Does he take me for some kind of idiot?

"You're never honest with women," I say simply, which is true. I know about his past – about his parents – but I can't think of a single woman, besides Alice and Esme, who does.

"Plus, she talks to Rose, who talks to me," I go on. "Hell, I probably know more about your relationship than you do."

That is _definitely _true, but the words sort of slip out before I really think about them and, just as expected, Edward's face twists in anger.

"Haven't you two ever heard of giving people privacy?"

"Oh, come on, Edward. Keep your hair on. It's healthy to share things with your significant other."

"Yes, but maybe you could exclude the things that are not of your business."

"Hey, I'm out here trying to help you. If you really like Bella you'll listen to me."

"Well that's great, Emmett. Thank you. Are we done?" he snaps.

Alright, cranky Nelly, relax.

"I guess so, dude. But hell...at least _think_ about what I'm telling you," I plead.

"I will, I will," he grumbles, but I can't be sure if he's serious or not. How else can I make him understand that he's potentially sabotaging the one good thing that's happened to him in a long time?

Because Bella is a good thing. She's good for him, I'm sure of it. She's not like the other girls – she's not going to swoon over his smile and then fall right in the sack with him. She knows what he's doing and miraculously likes him anyway. And she's also managed to win him over with her charm and not her ass which, let's face it, is a true rarity for Edward Cullen.

She's perfect for Edward, he just doesn't realize this. And he needs to step up his game and act like a man before it's too late.


End file.
